


What Lies At The End

by Good_beans



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: M/M, this does contain forsython but it's not the focus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24957163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Good_beans/pseuds/Good_beans
Summary: Forsyth completes all the elements of a knighting ceremony and finally achieves his dream.
Relationships: Fols | Forsyth/Python
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to see Forsyth be knighted and get his dream. I did some research on traditional knighting ceremonies in order to figure out how all of this would work. 
> 
> Also, this begins with a flashback in which Forsyth never actually says Python's name, I like to think that he had another name as a child and took on the nickname when he left home.

“Hurry up!” Forsyth wobbled on his little knees. Python -- although it was long before he’d taken up the nickname -- squinted at the book in his hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Just say what the king says!”

“I’m trying,” he mumbled. “I can’t read as well as you, you know.”

“I’ve been teaching you, though!”

“Ugh, and I just got used to saying that other stuff...”

“Yes, but I read that one the other day and it was such a grand speech.”

“Would you be quiet and let me focus?”

Forsyth pouted, but kept his mouth shut. He gathered the red sheet tied around him in his small fists and adjusted it over his white nightshirt. He wiggled his toes; the loose straws of hay were itchy. It had been difficult to clear every last piece away when they had prepared the barn loft for yet another make-believe adventure. The farmer’s wife was a kind woman who let the children sneak away there, so long as they helped her with chores every once in a while. Sure enough, she had turned a blind eye this morning when the two had padded past her window with armfuls of cloth, parchment, storybooks, and sticks that were generally sword-shaped. 

Forsyth could see how much Python was struggling with the text. He decided that it wasn’t worth putting his best friend through so much trouble. 

“Actually,” he said, “we don’t have to use that. You can just say the speech that you normally use.”

“Yeah, okay.” Looking relieved, Python snapped the book shut and swapped it with one of their makeshift swords. He fumbled around in his long blanket-cape before settling into a comfortable stance. He cleared his throat. The boy then recited the ceremony with his favorite make believe voice to use: that of a powerful, commanding king of Zofia. He concluded very formally, “you may recite your vows.”

Forsyth closed his eyes. He was wholly enveloped in the character of the knight-to-be. He knelt with perfect posture. He had to, as it was respectful to the king and the court. He spoke clear and loud. He had to, as that was the only way all the people could hear him. He said each vow with extreme sincerity. He had to, as these words would define the rest of his life.

By this time, Forsyth knew all the oaths by heart. Whenever he was feeling down, he would look them over. The boy would reread his storybooks, his father’s documents, or the little slip of paper on which he had scrawled his own notes after talking to some of his father’s associates who had actually been to a ceremony. He had made sure to look up any unfamiliar words. He wanted to understand the speech perfectly when he said it.

Forsyth’s young voice echoed through the barn and drifted out the nearby opening into the warm, summer air. Python did his best to stand royally and officially, but broke character every so often to scratch his nose or fix his paper crown. 

The child’s voice rose in sincerity as the lines went on. Forsyth never saw, but his best friend always smiled at this part. He said the final vow with as much passion as he could muster.

The barn was silent, save the rustling leaves and soft animal sounds from outside. Clearing his throat theatrically, Python lifted the stick. “I now dub thee… Sir Forsyth... the Annoying!” He doubled over in giggles. 

Forsyth whined his friend’s name. “I am  _ not  _ annoying!”

“You are, too!”

“Am not! _You_ are annoying!” Python continued laughing, his paper crown slipping off his head. The other boy picked it up, stood, and placed it firmly back on his blue tinted hair. “Come on, make it a good one!” 

“I will,” his friend said, his laughter slowing. “But we’ve done this scene a million times already. And I’m sure we’re gonna do it a million more times, Fors. Admit it, it was funny this one time....” 

Forsyth sighed. “It was not.” His eyes were dark. “You… you don’t think they’ll give me a title like ‘Annoying’, right?” 

“Nah, I don’t think so. Well, maybe, if you’re this crazy as a grown-up.”

“No! I’m going to be a very mature grown-up.” Forsyth displayed a mature face to prove it. Python nudged him away with a smile. 

“So, you’re really planning on doing this one day? Like, be a knight? I heard your father say that it’s--”

“--Who cares what he says?” He interrupted quickly. “I’m going to do it! I really am! No matter what it takes, no matter what anyone tells me. I’ll find a way. You hear me? I’ll find a way!”

“I hear you, sheesh,” Python waved his arms in front of him, trying to calm his friend down. “now, go back. I’ve got a good one.”

Forsyth knelt once more. He took a moment to get back into character. He set the scene in his mind. “Alright, go ahead.”

Python put on his king voice once more. “I now dub thee, Sir Forsyth the Stubborn.” 

His friend caught the stick before it was tapped on his shoulder. He pulled it towards himself. “You said you’d do a nice one!”

“That is a nice one!” Python tugged it back. “You just said, you’d do whatever it takes to be a knight, no matter what. That’s being stubborn!” 

“Oh.” Forsyth let go of the stick, “well, fine. But we should look for a better word. Stubborn sounds bad.”

“ _ You _ can look for a better word. I think this one is fine. Now, will ya hold still?” 

He did. 

Python repeated, “I dub thee, Sir Forsyth the Stubborn.” He tapped the stick on both shoulders. He opened his mouth to say the final line.

_ “Boys!” _ It was the farmer’s wife. “Would you two help me with the sheep? When you’ve finished you can go right back to your little game.”

Forsyth shot up, rapidly untangling himself from his costume. “Of course!” he shouted down from the loft. “We’d be happy to help!” Beside him, Python was untying his cape and removing his crown. They tossed their props into a colorful pile in the center of the floor. They hurried down the ladder, laughing and shoving and racing each other to see who could reach the woman first.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe that after the final battle, the Deliverance all stays at Rigel castle for a bit while Alm gets used to being king and uniting the kingdom. After a few months for the dust to settle and things to get in order, they hold a knighting ceremony for all the new recruits for the Brotherhood of Knights.
> 
> Also, Python gets a lil flirty in this chapter but don't worry, things never actually get spicy

Forsyth let out a long sigh. His eyes were closed as he sank a little deeper into the water.  _ Breathe in. Breathe out,  _ he told himself. He focused only on the warmth and the stillness that surrounded his skin on all sides. On the soft sounds of the water. On the slow, even breaths he took. The fragrant soap. The candle flames that flickered behind his eyelids. His thoughts were peaceful. Calm. Good. Pure.

“ _ Pssst _ \-- Forsyth! You naked in there?”

The man’s entire body tensed in stress. " _ Python!"  _ he hissed to the nearby voice, "what in Mila’s name do you want?!”

“There’s no point in saying that anymore, you know.”

“Oh, shut up! I’m still adjusting...” He opened his eyes and ran his hand over his forehead to clear away strands of emerald hair that had been clinging there with water. “And I am currently engaged in a very sacred ritual, so unless there is an emergency --”

“No, no, but hold on a sec. Can I come in?”

Forsyth saw a hand grab the edge of the curtain which separated his bath from the rest of the washroom. “No! You may not!” He said quickly, pulling his limbs to himself.

“...Really?”

“Really.”

He knew the kind of smile Python was making from the sound of his voice. “Oh, come on. I’ve seen you naked before.”

Forsyth felt his face redden at the bluntness. “Yes, but as I said, this is a sacred ritual. On the eve of one’s knighting ceremony, they must take a purifying bath. A bath to wash both the body and mind of any defilement. As I maintain the cleanliness of my body, so must I keep my thoughts clean and righteous.”

“Ahh,” there was sly laughter from behind the curtain, “so you’re worried I’ll stir up some  _ impure _ thoughts if I come in there?” 

Forsyth began to say something, but the archer continued, “no, I understand! And you’re right, I would only cause trouble if I came in there and saw you, and stared at you. Ya know, really just… ran my eyes all over you...”

“ _ Python _ .” Forsyth squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out his voice.  _ Damn him, this is important! I must keep my mind clear. My thoughts clean. _

“I mean, imagine how terrible it would be if I were there, gazing into your eyes, both of our hearts beginning to race --”

“Python!”  _ Clean, clean thoughts. _

“Of course it’d be best if I were on this side of the curtain, where you can’t see me. After all, I’m my nightclothes. Imagine the trouble I’d cause if you saw the way this nice, fitting tunic brings out my shoulders, and my arms. Oh, or the way the back of it really shows off my --”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Forsyth clenched his fists under the water. His face burned bright red. His words came slowly through gritted teeth. “Listen. This ceremony means the world to me. I have been looking forward to this night for such a long time. Therefore, I would be eternally grateful if you did not ruin it with your antics just this one time. I am  _ begging _ you.”

There was silence. The voice from behind the curtain spoke soberly. “I know that, Angel-face. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t taking this whole thing too seriously.”

“I'm going to be knighted tomorrow, I'm supposed to take it seriously!”

“But not to the point where it isn’t fun. You said it yourself! You’ve been waiting forever for this! I just want you to loosen up and enjoy it, okay? It's only gonna last one night. Don't waste it being so uptight.”

Forsyth couldn’t stop the gentle smile from spreading across his face. “...Alright." He paused. He allowed his limbs to relax again.

“Now good luck! You stay focused. Don’t go and start thinking of me, or my flattering tunic, or my arms, or my chest --”

“I  _ understand _ .” He blushed again, but his smile remained.

“So, uh, when are you going to be done with this fancy bath thing? I’m heading to bed soon, and I didn't want to fall asleep before you came up. I wanna wish you well for the big day and all."

Forsyth shook his head.  _ I should be furious at him -- how many times have I gone over this ceremony? Does he truly ignore me that much?  _ Still, the genuineness in Python’s voice caused him to reply gently. “Actually,” he said, “I won’t be joining you tonight.”

"Huh?"

“After this, I will don my symbolic garments and complete a vigil through the night. It will take place in the chapel in the west wing. Normally one would pray to the gods for blessings and guidance as a knight, but I suppose I’ll just spend the night in solitary reflection. It's a shame, though, it will feel empty to be kneeling in a temple knowing the goddess is no longer listening…" Catching himself falling into the upsetting train of thought, he quickly said, "I will remain there until the knighting ceremony at noontime in the Grand Hall.”

He finished talking and closed his eyes, content with the plan ahead of him. It sounded perfect.

“That sounds horrid.” 

Forsyth laughed. “Well, it may not be a picnic, but it's all part of the process. I must prove myself worthy.”

“Prove yourself?! Haven’t you already done that a million times? When you were -- oh, I don’t know -- saving the world?! Now you have to do some stupid all-nighter for it to really count?” 

“It’s tradition," he stated, a little surprised by the anger in his partner’s voice.

“It’s stupid.”

“I do not agree.”

There was a knock on the door. 

Silque spoke from the other end. “Python? Is that you?” Forsyth buried his face in his hands.  _ Oh yes, this is exactly what I need. The most innocent woman of the Deliverance catching sight of me like this during my purification ritual... _

She continued, “there’s someone here saying he’s your guest. He told the guards --”

“--Yes, yes!” Python blurted. “Thank you, I’ll go out and meet him now. I’ll stop by and see ya later, then,” he called back.

“O-oh, alright.” Forsyth was suddenly sad to lose the company. 

“Is he still at the gate or did they let him in?” the archer was asking as the door shut behind him.

Forsyth was left with his mouth open to say goodbye.  _ Well that was rude.  _ He was annoyed with the interruption of his bath, but even more so that it had ended so abruptly.  _ And odd. Python inviting a guest? After severing all ties with his immediate family, he’s remained independent from most of the village since. Who would he be inviting?  _ The thought of his hometown brought his own father to mind. His heart sank. 

With all his being, Forsyth wished his father could see him now. Forsyth wished to tell him about his adventures, his trials, his triumphs. He wanted to show him the man he had become. But he knew that would never happen. There was no way the most stubborn scholar in all Zofia would travel across the continent to see his rebellious son achieve the dream that he had abandoned his family for. 

Forsyth had started writing him letters when they first arrived at Rigel Castle. However, he found it full of desperate apologies and harsh ‘I-told-you-so’s after each attempt. Reliving all the painful memories of their last meeting had resulted in the most recent unfinished letter crumpled and thrown towards the fire. It missed, but he was already leaving. Upon returning that night, he was grateful to discover that Python had disposed of it at some point. 

Forsyth brought his focus back to the ceremony. Tomorrow was it: the day he had been dreaming about since he was a young boy. All his goals, decisions, and efforts had led him here. Of course, it wasn’t tomorrow that was most important to him, it was all the days after of serving as a knight to the kingdom he loved. But the ceremony itself marked the beginning of that happy future as well as an end to his days of uncertainty and strife.

_ And you know what? I do not need anyone else to attend. My family is already here.  _

He breathed deep. He enjoyed the warm water. He relaxed his body, and tipped his head back. Something popped into his mind. He pushed it away. It came back.

He clenched his teeth, reminding himself,  _ clean, clean thoughts. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This section was interesting to write, since normal knight ceremonies are so incredibly based in religion, and the Deliverance just killed the gods...  
> Still, I think it made for a really cool emotional moment for Forsyth, who certainly could have been very religious growing up.

The long, empty corridor looked the same as the last one Forsyth had been in. The man hurried through the west wing, which was nearly silent at this time of night. He adjusted his white tunic as he tried to remember the direction to the chapel. Light from the flickering torches danced around the window-shaped stretches of moonlight on the floor. He turned the corner, then another, then backtracked a bit, then found himself in an unfamiliar area. He let out an anxious breath. The high priest would be waiting for him. 

_ How awful it would look if I showed up late to the vigil! What will he think of me?  _

His ceremonial shoes tapped against the stone floor. He had completed the rest of his bath with no more interruptions, and was given a touching speech from Lady Celica before heading to this part of the castle. He ended up at a spiraling stairwell, so he turned around. 

_ Come now, the west wing isn’t that extensive -- where is the chapel? Argh, I cannot be late! I would be starting my entire career off as a disgrace! _

He hurried down a different passageway, looking for anything he recognized from the last time he’d been there. His chest began to tighten as he found himself more and more lost.

_ There are only three components to the ceremony, and I’ve already failed one of them miserably. And now I’m going to ruin another!  _

He picked up his pace. 

_ I can’t even complete two simple tasks. How am I supposed to be successful in the Brotherhood?! Everyone said I couldn’t do it. They were right. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know where I am. I can’t do anything correctly! _

He was running now.

_ All of this time and I haven’t changed at all! I’m going to be a knight, for Mila’s sake, and I can’t even pull myself together for long enough to travel from the washroom to the chapel. How am I to battle evil in a state like this? How am I to defend my comrades? My castle? How could a failure like myself ever expect to --! _

Caught up in emotion, a misstep caused Forsyth to trip and sprawl face-first to the ground. Before he had any time to react, he heard his name shouted from behind.

“Forsyth! Jeez, are you alright?” The man heard Python’s huffing and puffing as he approached. The archer let out a small chuckle. “Oh man, that was quite the spectacular fall, if I do say so myself. What I wouldn’t pay to see that again!”

Forsyth stayed quiet, brimming with embarrassment and stress and anger. Python reached him. He helped him off the ground while feigning exhaustion.

“Phew, you were mo-ving! I just wanted to tell you good luck before you got started, but sheesh, the only way I could catch up to you was because of that tumble.”

Feeling the need to save at least some of his dignity, Forsyth finally muttered, “it was these blasted shoes…”

“Oh yeah, you’ve the whole outfit you were telling me about.” Python angled his head, studying it. Forsyth stood straighter, proud to be wearing the special clothing. 

“Indeed.”

“The red really clashes with your hair.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not meant to be fashionable. It is symbolic, remember?” 

Python gesturing to the red garment over his tunic and the black stockings. “Uh-huh. We’ve got the blood and the death and all that dark stuff.”

“ _ And _ the loyalty to the royal family. And the purity and righteousness.” He began walking briskly ahead, saying, “now if you’ll excuse me, I am already late to the vigil.” 

His partner fell into step beside him. “The vigil, huh?”

“Yes.”

“At the chapel?”

An exasperated, “ _ yes _ .”

“...The one in the other direction?”

Forsyth stopped. He gave his friend a sideways look to see if he was just messing with him or not. He seemed genuine. 

“Here, I’ll take you there.”

“And how would  _ you  _ know where the chapel is?” Forsyth huffed in annoyance, but still allowed Python’s arm around his shoulder to turn him around and lead him back.

“I haven’t been running myself to the ground with work like you. I’ve had time to look around. I actually know this castle pretty well.” 

“Oh... I suppose that makes sense.”  _ Have I really been running myself to ground? It’s true I have been busy, but I did not believe I was pushing myself too hard…  _ Python led the pair through a maze of turns and doorways. Forsyth turned to him. “Ah, I nearly forgot! Who did you go to meet at the front gate? You have a guest?”

“Nah, I thought it was someone I met at the village, but it turns out they had me mixed up with someone else. Alright, we’re here!” __

_ That’s curious. How do you confuse a name like ‘Python’ with another?  _ He wanted to press further, but they were indeed at the chapel entrance. He would have time to ask tomorrow. 

“Thank you,” Forsyth said. He stared at the door. He took a very deep breath. “Now… I suppose the next time I’ll see you will be at the ceremony. Do take care not to oversleep, alright?”

“Eh, don’t worry about that, Lukas is dragging me out of bed wicked early...”

“Lukas?”

“Yup. It’s a great idea, I’ll give him that. Still, I’ll never forgive him for making me get up at that unholy hour.”

“Oh? What will you two be doing?”

“Nothin’ that concerns a knight-to-be such as yourself. Now go on. I’d hate to keep you any longer.”

Forsyth was annoyed that Python was being so secretive for the second time, but the man was right. He didn’t have time to work through all of the cryptic comments. He had his own things to focus on.

Python placed his hand firmly on his partner’s shoulders. “You got this, okay?”

Forsyth nodded, nerves preventing him from saying anything in reply.

“You’re going to be incredible out there tomorrow. No matter what happens, you’ve been a knight to me since day one.” He leaned in for a kiss. “Goodnight, Love.”

There was a troublesome lump in Forsyth's throat preventing him from saying any more than, “thank you. Goodnight, Love.” With that, he headed through the heavy decorated doors.

A few rows of wooden pews faced an idol of Duma. Candles as numerous as stars bordered the room and surrounded the statue. Stained glass figures loomed over the scene with power and pride. Even in the darkness of the hour, their scenes of the ancient royals, knights, and divine dragons were made up of beautiful colors. Stone carvings wound around them and spread across the ceiling. Nomah stood at the statue, turning at the sound of the door. 

“Ah, good evening Forsyth.”

“Good evening! My deepest apologies for being late!” 

Nomah chuckled. “Ah, was the chapel difficult to find? It took me a while to get here myself, in fact.”

“Oh! Why yes indeed.” His shoulders relaxed a bit. 

The priest explained the night’s proceedings, which Forsyth had gone over in his mind more times than he could count. Still, he listened intently and nodded along with the instructions. He was to reflect in silence from then until noon the following day. He could not stand and move about the room. He could not have contact with anyone outside the chapel. There would be guards rotating through the night outside the entrance to ensure he was alright in the case of an emergency, but also to enforce the previous requirement.

Forsyth was led to kneel wherever he liked. Ordinarily he would face the idol, but that was inappropriate for multiple reasons. The man chose a pew near the back near a window depicting the first hero.

The high priest left. Forsyth knelt alone. 

Some hours passed normally, others agonizingly slow. The room felt depressingly empty after all that had happened. He tried to send his thoughts out to the heavens, or the universe, or to anything at all, but it truly felt as if no one was listening. It would seem that prayer was not an option for him. 

Forsyth turned to personal reflection, but his mind soon drifted to unpleasant memories and fears. He repeatedly bounced from soaring hopefulness to nearly drowning in his self-doubt. He tried to think about the people he’d met in the Deliverance. Each time, however, he would spiral back into panic as he worried he would let them all down.

There was not a sound, not a single change in scenery save the occasional flicker of a candle in the still air. It was complete silence for an eternity. 

There was nothing to mark time.

It felt as if there were no more time.

Despite trying to shift throughout the night, his body began to ache from kneeling. He became emotionally tired, too. His mind was strained with despairing thoughts. There were a few times he felt himself dozing off, before jerking upwards again. Each time, he would rub his face and let out a small groan.

He couldn’t tell if his eyes were playing tricks on him, or if the sky really had begun to lighten behind the stained glass. He awaited the distant morning bells to mark five o’clock.  _ Even if dawn were to break right this moment, I’d have nearly seven hours more.  _ He hung his head.  _ I’m not sure if I can handle this maddening silence for much longer, much less seven hours...  _

He was losing motivation. 

It was just him, stuck with his awful thoughts and aching body. 

He felt so very alone.

More time passed. Then there came a great noise. Forsyth’s heart nearly gave out on him as the deafening sound rang through the chapel. He leaped to his feet, pain shooting through his legs. He paused. It was the chapel’s bells. 

But they shouldn’t have been ringing. These bells were never in use. The castle always awoke with the huge brass bells in the south tower. There could be no doubt about it, though: the sound was coming from right above him.

After the fifth ring, they kept sounding. They just kept ringing and ringing. There was something beautiful about the lack of structure and synchronization. They sounded like the kind that were rung at royal weddings and births. It was at that moment that Forsyth realized exactly who was ringing those bells…

Something else came to him, then. He had not expected such a celebratory sound this morning, but he supposed he should have. Today was a day of rejoicing and merriment. Even though Python had tried to tell him, Forsyth had still forgotten that sometime along the way. But now he remembered. Today was a joyful day. 

As much as he worried he would let his friends down, they were here, right now, ringing the bells to celebrate his big day. 

The man moved to kneel again. When he tried to step back into the pew, however, his sore legs protested. His form simply fell to a seated position in the middle of the aisle. He let out a small chuckle. 

It truly was the loveliest of sounds. It filled the chapel and resounded within his chest. Rays of light were beginning to stream through the stained glass. Splashes of color fell upon the floor and furniture. There was something so... holy about the scene.

Forsyth looked down at his hands. They were painted with the blues and reds of all the ancient heroes who watched from above.  _ It seems I have many people looking out for me. _

He closed his eyes. He felt so calm, so centered. He felt clarity. Peace. 

One might go so far to call it a state of prayer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, there are a lot of other people getting knighted the same day as Forsyth, I just don't mention them. They each have their own vigil in separate places in the castle, and then get knighted together. Although I'm not sure the order in which they would normally be knighted, I'm sure between Alm and Clive and Mathilda they could pull some strings and that's why Forsyth is knighted first. I also headcanon that Lukas became Alm's royal advisor for a few years before retiring as a teacher. 
> 
> My one regret with this section is that I didn't write out a good Mom Mathilda moment. I may go back and put something in there, but I just ran out of time and inspiration by now. However, I think she would be such a mother to him and they'd have a real beautiful talk or moment or something.

The spacious throne room was filled with chatter and trumpet fanfare. People of all ages and professions were packed into the huge room; there were villagers, nobles, soldiers, and farmers gathered in the hall. Dark purple banners fluttered down the columns. White flower garlands hung around the walls and over the throne. The red carpet leading from the entryway was speckled with petals. Sunlight flooded from the large window recently built behind the throne. Although the room was already very well lit, all the sconces were burning bright along the walls.

Python twisted his mouth as he fixed his fancy tie. He wasn’t used to dressing up so nicely, but if there was any occasion to do so, this was it. He stood near enough to the front of the crowd to have a good view. After seeing no one else was doing so, he had sacrificed his spot in the front to allow a large group of small children to stand there so that they could see the proceedings. He glanced at the person beside him, an older man who appeared lost in thought. Python tapped him politely, and gestured to the double doors as they swung open. The crowd’s excited conversation bubbled into applause. 

Upon seeing that Forsyth was at the front of the group, the archer forgot all the castle manners he’d been preparing. He began hooting and hollering as loud as he could, clapping and pumping his fist. Forsyth was just beaming. His posture was perfect, of course. He looked so professional in the ceremonial garments. He surveyed the room but didn’t seem to spot Python. The group stepped inside the throne room. The choir started to sing the pieces that Mathilda had arranged.

The hymn they began with was Forsyth’s favorite. The man had often spoken about his love of the lyrics, which were all in the ancient tongue and spoke of bygone days. He’d discussed his admiration of the way the song’s flawlessly wove together feelings of nostalgia, melancholy, and hope for the future. Python thought it was alright. He could see on his partner’s face, though, that the music was really touching him in that moment. 

The trumpets faded, and Forsyth continued walking down the carpet alone. His steps were strong and sure. He kept his gaze straight forward, most likely out of stiff nervousness.

At the front of the hall, Alm stood in full regal getup. It no longer looked foreign on him. Lady Celica stood to his right, Lukas to his left. Clive and Mathilda were watching from the side of the royal platform. Although it had been Forsyth’s dream to be knighted by his idol and friend, Clive, it was truly the highest honor to be dubbed by the king himself. Never in a thousand years would he have expected to receive such an opportunity.

Forsyth knelt, fist upon chest. Alm began an emotional speech about their time spent together. It was quite grand and eloquent and full of praises, but Python was hardly listening; he found himself slipping into his own memories.

Ever since they were children, Forsyth had displayed knightley characteristics. Python remembered all the times his best friend had stood between him and bullies, him and the big dog that lived next door, him and his father. He remembered all the little side jobs Forsyth took on as a teenager to help out the village folk. Most couldn’t pay, and the boy would refuse money from those who could muster something up. He remembered how much of a gentleman Forsyth remained even as his peers changed around him.

He remembered the day the two had joined the Deliverance. Python had opposed the idea of running headlong into a war they were already losing. But there was something in Forsyth’s face that changed his mind. He knew the man was going to see it through until the very end. Python ended up following along because he truly did have hope for the Deliverance after seeing that determination. Well -- also because he couldn’t imagine spending a single day without Forsyth by his side. 

And of course, there was no denying that Forsyth perfectly played the role of knight throughout their adventure. Python remembered all the man’s displays of strength and bravery. He remembered how Forsyth was always fighting by his side and coming to his rescue. There were so many times that green shield had saved his life. But it wasn’t just battlefields that Python remembered. He thought of the quiet evenings by the campfire in which Forsyth would talk in sincere tones about the kingdom they were going to help create. About all the people he was going to help. 

All too soon, Alm concluded: “You may recite your vows.”

The room had fallen into a respectful silence for the king’s speech, but now they seemed to grow even more quiet. It was as if the hundreds of people had all held their breath at once. 

A single voice spoke, unwavering and certain.

“I, Forsyth, vow to be loyal to my king, and my kingdom, and its people. I shall always act with courteousness and chivalry. I shall speak only the truth. I shall harbor no secrets. I shall treat my opponents with fairness, whether engaged in battle or otherwise. I vow to stay true to my virtues, no matter the consequences that may fall upon myself.” 

The man’s voice rose in sincerity as the lines went on. Although he didn’t see, his best friend smiled.

“I vow to defend the weak, the helpless, and the innocent against all that ails them. I vow to fight only for good. I vow to be strong, but never concede to arrogance. I shall always be valiant in my pursuit of justice. I vow to be courageous at all times.” His voice trembled with passion. “May my strength and my courage serve you, and all those I have sworn to protect.”

A blade lowered to him. 

Alm smiled. “I dub thee… Sir Forsyth the Steadfast!”

A tap on each shoulder.

“Now rise, and serve your kingdom well.”

The knight rose. 

He was handed his sword. The room erupted into applause and cheering. Forsyth gazed up at the king’s court, then to the crowd as Alm gestured for him to face his people. 

For the rest of his life, Python would hear his best friend recount that very moment in the same way. Forsyth would tell the tale carefully, explaining how he had been overtaken with a swell of emotion and memory and hope and accomplishment. 

In reality, he  _ bawled _ .

It was that full-on, ugly crying, too. With hiccuping breaths and uncontrollable tears and sounds in the back of the throat. He tried to cover his face from the crowd, but his body still shook violently with sobs. Python could feel his own throat tightening as he watched Lukas help guide him to the side of the crowd. Even from here, it was clear that the advisor’s eyes were watering as well.

Python could see that the next squire was approaching the king, but he now had no reason to pay the ceremony any mind. He earned some angry looks while fighting through the tight bodies to reach Forsyth. After stepping on a few toes and receiving a few shoves, he arrived at his destination. 

Forsyth was still crying pretty hard. Apparently, squeezing his hand with a warm smile only made it worse. Python tried whispering kindnesses and comforts into his ear -- all to no avail. He eventually settled for subtly rubbing the man’s back as he continued heaving with sobs. 

The newly appointed knight ran out of tears, finally, at the end of the proceedings. Alm concluded the ceremony and the fanfare blared once more. As soon as the final note faded, the people began to disperse. Forsyth turned, opening his mouth to say something.

Python crushed him in a hug. “Congratulations, Fors! I’m so proud of you.” He squeezed him tight. “I love you.” They remained in the hug both just basking in the sheer elation of the moment. 

Unfortunately, the man who had been standing next to Python appeared beside the couple. The archer pulled away from the embrace. That all-consuming joy was tinged with fear now. He could only hope his plan wouldn’t backfire and utterly ruin the greatest day of his partner’s life.

Forsyth looked up. His eyes widened as they stared into nearly identical ones, save for some wrinkles around the corners. The older man had pale green hair pulled back in a clean ponytail, and had his hands clasped tightly at his sides. 

The man inhaled. “For--,” he caught himself, “ _ Sir  _ Forsyth. It’s good to see you.”

Python cursed himself. He had wanted to be the first to call him that... 

Forsyth stood staring for another moment. 

“...Father?”

The archer gave Forsyth’s hand a squeeze before stepping away. As much as he was dying to stay and listen to their reunion, his respect for privacy far outweighed his love of drama. He ended up heading towards the throne, shooting glances over his shoulder every so often.

“Python!”

“Mm?” His worrying face broke into its usual crooked grin. “Lukas! You looked quite dapper up there, my good man.”

Lukas laughed. “I’m impressed, you look very nice yourself.” He went on, “thank you for your assistance this morning.”

“Of course!” Python feigned a yawn, which wasn’t difficult. “But you owe me some naptime, alright?”

He looked over his shoulder again. To his great pleasure, he could see the two men were hugging and smiling, tears streaming down both faces.

“Aw great,” Python said, “he’s cryin’ again…” 

Following his gaze, Lukas’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that his father?”

“Uh-huh. I sent him a letter a while back telling him everything and asking him to come.” Receiving a look from the redhead, Python merely shrugged. “Whaaat? I know it was overstepping, but come on. We both know Fors was never going to do it. So I just gave the situation a  _ little  _ push in the right direction.”

From across the room, Forsyth gave Python a meaningful face. The archer really hoped the look was in gratitude, and not an I’m-going-to-kill-you-later kind of expression… 

Arms around shoulders, the father and son began walking towards them. The pair only got a few steps before Mathilda came attacking him with a hug. Clive was right behind her. 

Python watched them talk for a while, all three just overspilling with joy. With a few more steps, the knight was stopped by the Ram Village kids. Then Zeke and Tatiana. Then Claire. Then a few more people. Then a few more. 

It took ages, but Forsyth finally made it over to Lukas and Python. His father took a step back as the knight greeted his friends.

“Congratulations!” The redhead gave him a hearty hug. “It’s been a long time coming, but you’ve done it, friend. How do you feel?”

Forsyth’s face glowed like the sun. “Incredible.” 

Python put his arm around his waist, pulling him close. He lowered his voice. “So, how did everything go? You know, with your pops?”

“There is still much work to be done between us,” came the carefully spoken reply, “but I remain optimistic.” 

“You always do,” Python squeezed him in a sideways hug. “You always do.” Feeling a fresh wave of the day’s joy, the man let out an unexpected laugh. “Well then -- let’s get going! There’s an entire castle of people who are just dying to congratulate you. Seriously, I can name about a hundred people who are just falling over themselves to tell you how proud they are.”

“Oh, come now. You mustn't exaggerate, Python!”

“He’s not,” Lukas said with a warm smile. Forsyth’s face lit up once more. He puffed out his chest, his hand drifting to his new sword. Python couldn’t wait to settle back in their room and listen to Forsyth point out every little detail of it. 

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” The knight asked. He marched ahead with confidence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks the ending scene for Echoes in the eye as I write this*

“Hey, Forsyth?”

He rolled over in his sheets. “Yeah?” The two children were just settling in for a sleepover in Forsyth’s room.

“Could you tell me that story again?” 

“I just blew out our candle, I won’t be able to see the book.”

“Come on, you read it all the time. You must know it!” 

Forsyth smiled. His father had yet to notice the book’s absence from his study; the boy had gotten plenty of time to read and reread it. “Well, perhaps I do.” Python scooted closer to his friend in anticipation. He may not have been as obsessed with knights as the other boy, but neither one could resist this story about such an epic hero. 

“Okay. Once upon a time…” 

He told of a brave young man who went on a quest across the lands. There were dragons, enchantment, betrayal, and love. There was royalty, comradery, and sorcery. The hero showed unparalleled strength and righteousness in the face of terrible danger.

As the boy came to the end, he remembered the words of the book. Despite the story ending so joyfully, the author had finished with a profound statement regarding the true corruption and darkness within the hearts of men. It had left him feeling quite bleak the first time he’d read it. But after reading a few other things from his father’s collection, Forsyth had realized something about the ending. He decided it was only there for grown-ups who thought that saying such dramatic things made them sound smarter than other grown-ups. It seemed that adults were always trying to sound smarter than one another. Therefore, Forsyth had both recognized that the statement was a powerful one indeed and also knew it did not belong in such a storybook.

The way he saw it, if a hero had indeed overcome all those obstacles, found their soulmate, and changed both themselves and the world for the better, there was only one possible ending. And that was the ending he always told.

Forsyth pulled the sheets tightly around himself in giddiness. “After that, the knight returned home with his true love. The two enjoyed the time of peace and prosperity, but never stopped helping people. They lived happily ever after. The end.”


End file.
